insulting yourself

the hour is late, the night drawn to a close
the bodies lay groping in a mess on the floor
bits and pieces and scanners in search
lurking for bits left in the dirt
the lights are so bright and green to red
four off in the ambulance, two crazed, two dead
standing in awe of the scenery now
how did i come here, where am i now
listlessness in the doldrums of something neurotic
putrefied mess with no cleansing, resistant to antibiotics

back to the house, there lay four groping in bed
no morals, only hedonistic pleasures better left for the dead

standing in awe of the filth of this world, i turn my head and hurl on the floor
take me back to purity and splendor, for i'm sick and tired of this dangerous adventure

Author's Notes/Comments: 

a memory of the year 2000

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kerry's picture


This poem has power -- it almost "attacks" the reader - well done!

SSmoothie's picture

Ahh the days of innocence

Ahh the days of innocence lost way too early these days :( very stirring and uncomfortable to read great work.

Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS    

"Well, it's life SIMS, but not as we know it" - ยก$&am